


Resolve

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 19:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17249816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Ignis knew his resolve would crumble when Nyx and Noctis worked together.





	Resolve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shiary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiary/gifts).



“Don’t be an idiot, Ulric.”

“As if a scolding from you could stop me, Scientia.”

There were very few people who could weather the utter distaste in Ignis’ glare. The thin, unimpressed line of his mouth, the flat tone of his disinterest. And yet here he was, face to face, with the only man who could could not only withstand his ire, but grin at it and persist. 

Men. 

Noctis was at Nyx’s elbow, eyes hopeful and wide. Hands wringing together as if he was actually nervous over the response. As if he was actually fretting over this reaction, this active dislike Ignis had for the idea… 

“Noct, stop it,” Ignis set the groceries down on the kitchen counter. He should have known that he should have called Gladio over to babysit the pair of them. He resolutely refused to face his Prince’s hopeful eyes. “My answer is no.”

“But why?” Ignis swatted Noctis’ hands away from the bags of groceries. 

He knew this game. It would start with the eyes, Noctis knew the power of his adorable looks, even if he refused to admit it. Then it would be the helpful pout, offering a mask of humility as he poked and prodded his way around Ignis’ domain, carefully helping whatever task was at hand as he asked for clarification. Next, Ignis knew, he would be tricked into looking at Noctis. 

The game was over if he looked at Noctis when in this state. He could already picture the little pout, the softness in his eyes.

Ignis had always thought that the Caelum magic was more than just Crystals and base elements. 

Nyx was more straightforward. Arms crossed, the Glaive preferred to reason with Ignis. He approached his battles like a war-tested tactician. He had studied Ignis before, every reaction, every promise and outburst and challenge. Ignis was well beyond blushing under that level gaze and playful smile. He was well beyond reacting to those playful prods and experimental pokes. Nyx was a challenger, an obstacle to his Lucian sensibilities. 

The foil of the Galahdian’s _joie de vivre_ was probably why Ignis liked the man so much, if he was being polite about it. Noctis certainly smiled more when the troublesome Glaive was around. 

“Noctis, we have a formal dinner tonight. And the New Year’s Ball after that. There’s tomorrow’s charity banquette and the charity event that you’re running— if I may remind you— is next week and only half-planned. There are interviews and portraits and—”

“And dad is taking care of that stuff.” Noctis reached up to rest a hand on Ignis’ arm. The battle was won; “How often do we run off to a party?”

“You hate parties.” 

Even to his ears, the excuse was week. A New Year’s gathering with the little group of older Glaives Nyx called family was hardly a party. Certainly not on the scale of the events Noctis was willing to run from. There was no mandatory attendance for the Prince at the King’s annual festivities. King Regis would have never enforced something like that. 

“What about your father?”

“We have lunch day after tomorrow.”

Ignis faltered, and caught sight of Nyx’s grin. “Stop smirking.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. Stop it.”

If they left now, they would have a few hours of dinner and games before the countdown began. Before the screens across the city showed the beloved New Year’s image of Moogles playing with a tumbling Chocobo egg, only to be cracked open like so many bottles of champagne across the city, the kingdom, when it reached the bottom of the countdown. 

He had missed the pleasant burn of Libertus’ cooking. 

“Very well.”

The groceries were thrown into place as each man kissed him in thanks for the approval. And Ignis was whisked off— away from the safety and warmth of the apartment and shadow of the Citadel. Through the streets that had taken on a life of their own with the anticipation for the evening, the promise of festivals and lights and a world ringing in a new year already rippling across the city. 

He could resolve to stand his ground in the new year. Tonight would be for Nyx and Noct and himself.


End file.
